


''Green''

by The_Fiercest_Vulpine



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: F/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, safe word
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:06:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fiercest_Vulpine/pseuds/The_Fiercest_Vulpine
Summary: This is RobRae told from Raven's point of view, after a little back and forth interaction.Enjoy!





	''Green''

"So, what do want to be the safe word?"

"Safe word?" he chuckled, a little thrown.

"Yes."

Robin appeared a tad indifferent, but still smiley with that goofy look on his face.

"I...  
I mean...  
Do we really need one?"

"We might, you never know."

"...Do you think I'll need one?"

Raven sighed, but remained calm and open.

"I don't know, but it might still be good to have one.  
Just in case."

Robin stared at her for a minute, the goofiness subsiding before he looked off briefly, then back at her.

"Well, I...don't usually ever say 'stop' unless I'm really serious about it, so..."

"OH my God.  
The safe word is not going to be 'stop.' "

Robin laughed lightly, smiling from ear to ear once more.

"What?"

Raven threw her head back briefly and drew in a breath, wanting to be annoyed but too overcome by his charming dorkiness to let it stay.

"I can't believe I have to say this, but we need a real safe word."

"What's wrong with 'stop?' "

"IT'S NOT THE SAFE WORD."

 

\--------------

 

"Red.  
The safe word was red.  
Red means stop, statistically, so he got his way.  
Which is just fine, but still...  
Sometimes he can be so ridiculous, and I honestly love it.

Sex isn't always just for fun.  
Sometimes it serves a more psychological purpose.  
A need for love, skin to skin contact, affection.  
Closure.  
Sometimes, sex is a way for a person who's been miserable to take back that pain, and make something useful out of it; something satisfying.  
With the right partner, any goal in this area can be achieved.  
And yet other times, sometimes sex is just pointless.  
But I don't do pointless.  
I do purpose.

I think everyone fantasizes about whips and chains, but we've never been those people.  
I think the worst I've ever done as far as really "S&M" material goes is using my magic to form a leash and collar, but that was more or less to be funny.  
This was...different.  
This came from someplace deeper, someplace he can't share with anyone else the way he can with me.  
We see being able to push and pull with each other as a privilege.  
I was proud to do it for him that night, and he was proud to have me be the one to give him what he needed.

Tied his wrists together, made him keep them above his head after pushing him on his back.  
Told him to keep his knuckles to the headboard.  
I would've used magic, but it was more fun to lean over him and manually tie a knot.  
It was more intimate, too, I think.  
He was a prisoner, once.  
He was held captive, forced into things, had pain inflicted on him.  
It was long, agonizing trauma, and not something he would ever want to relive.  
But when given the opportunity to go through something with similar implications, only with pleasure in the place of pain, who wouldn't take it?  
It's the chance to reclaim an event done your own way, like an artist painting their emotions.  
It's freedom.  
Honestly, I don't know if Robin truly understands why he wanted to try something of such a nature that night, but I do.  
We don't have to talk about it -- unless he ever brings it up, of course.  
Maybe it's best he doesn't know, just so the pleasure isn't ruined for him.  
I want him to have that.  
If I know why he needed it, then that's enough.

His heart was pounding before we'd even started, but he wasn't scared in the bad sense.  
He was...exhilarated, had butterflies, because he knew what was going to happen, but he wanted it.  
He didn't want me to hurt him, he just wanted me to make him hurt for something, and then to help him achieve his goal.  
If it took all night, he was willing to bear through it.  
I took control of his body.  
I decided how, when and where he felt pleasure, and when it stopped.  
Whenever he came close to that final release, I simply stopped touching him.  
When I told him to keep his legs down, he obeyed.  
When I told him to keep his knuckles pressed against the headboard, he obeyed.  
God, I'd never seen him writhe in such a way.  
Shit, it was such a hot and invigorating sight, I remember watching him and wanting to satisfy my own needs, but I knew how to push it back and numb it.  
I wanted it to be about him.  
Hmhm, when it was over he wanted to "repay" me, but I told him no.  
He pretty much blacked out afterwards, anyway.

To get him so close, only to deny him, and watch and listen as he begged, but I wouldn't give in.  
I don't think I'd ever seen him sweat so much or turn so red, and we both loved it.  
After he calmed down, I would start it all over again.  
Slow, meticulous strokes here and there, skating my hands all over his person.  
I distinctly recall loving the sound of his panting, and sometimes caught myself panting with him.  
It was contagious, I guess -- or it was for me, being an empath.  
But I was tuned into him, I understood what he was feeling.  
I had to.  
There's a special, ambiguous little spot in the brain where the wires to pain and pleasure cross, and it becomes difficult to differentiate the two.  
In the end, the subject normally decides that even if there's discomfort, it doesn't matter so long as pleasure is involved.  
To get so close to orgasm and then be cut off abruptly created such a growing urgency and happy, stinging discomfort in him that only got worse every time it happened.  
The anxiety, the frustration, the desperation, it was all there.  
There were a couple of moments where I wondered if I was just being mean to him.  
I can get off on making him squirm and suffer sweetly, but to flat out torture him just isn't my style.  
Between the two of us, when it comes to sex I'm more dominant and he's more submissive, but we're soft core.  
Some people like it rough, but we're more sensual.  
Everybody's different.  
But no, he wanted it.  
Even though I listened to him beg and watched him contort in happy, sexual agony, I could feel that it was doing just what he wanted it to.  
It was a challenge, a test of his resilience, and he knew if he passed he would be rewarded with the rush of a lifetime.  
He was strong, and I think stronger still for being so vocal.  
I enjoyed hearing it, and watching his facial responses to what I did to him, too, specifically when he would look down to see what I was doing to him.

I think it went on for about two hours, maybe a little less.  
Once he'd get so close and then denied, after a sort of cooling period it took time to get it back up to speed.  
Which neither of us minded, obviously.  
I wondered if he would ever just call it off and give up, but from the end result and how long we were there, I think it's safe to say he was okay with it lasting.  
Like I said, he would've probably suffered through it even if it took the whole night.  
When it got close to those two hours though, I finally let him come.  
I have never seen him release with so much force, or make so much noise.  
Needless to say, he really didn't care if anybody heard him, and good for him.  
It was clearly something he needed, and it all erupted like a volcano.  
After the solid minute he took to just soak in every ounce of ecstasy from his orgasm, I found myself just staring at him.  
His hair was soaked and messy, he talked like a drunk person, and fell totally limp afterward.  
Leaning over to untie him was...kind of sobering, in a funny sort of way.  
I watched his hands pull apart from one another once the cloth was loosened and taken away.  
Even in the midst of all the explosive pleasure and relief, I still knew where it all had come from.  
I was happy just to see him feel better, to get it out of his system.  
Instead of begging someone to "please stop," he got to beg someone "please, don't stop."  
He was still controlled, but he knew he had the option to back out if he needed to, and he knew I wouldn't prolong any real suffering.  
He knew he didn't have to do anything wrong.  
What we did, there's nothing wrong about at all.

Before feeling, I never really knew what I liked.  
But now that I've had a taste for it, I can say that taking control of another person's body, hm...  
Well, it's a good way to help me forget about having to be in control of mine.  
I love that Robin and I can just be that other half of each other when we need it.  
Even though I didn't get any sexual satisfaction, I got the satisfaction of controlling his body and sensations, and watching the pressure build and burst.  
It was erotic, it was sexy, it was emotional.  
I would lightly graze his chest and stomach with my nails, and I remember his body rolling like a wave under my hand because he just needed my touch so badly.  
I've been there; I've needed him that way.  
I could feel his muscles twitch, I could feel his energy trill, I could feel his needs, and he knew all of that.  
He knew I would take care of him.

Dom and sub stuff isn't something we do a lot of.  
We like to try different things in different places, but once in a blue moon we kick it up a notch.  
Like...with Officer Grayson, role playing.  
Ahem.  
That was fun...  
I don't know when we'll do another control thing again, but I won't push it.  
We love what we have, and every decision is made mutually.  
So when he's ready to put that much power in my hands again, I'll be ready, too.  
We've never had a "red" moment.  
Only green."

 

\---Raven Roth


End file.
